a^   «.w  JU  XI    * 


'*J0¥    IN    SORROW." 

:R£]:sd:.iAbJEt:E:s 

AT  TME 

FUNERAL  OF 
Mn.  SUSAN  AIVIVA  OANTT, 

BY 

REV.  C.  S.  VBDDER. 

VOR   PRITATE    DISTRIBUTIOB. 


CHARLESTON: 

A.  B.  MILLEH  *  Oo. 

1864. 


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i^Ei>wa:-A.i^K:s-        ]{' 


'*  What  »m  I?'*  said  Luther,  as  he  wit- 
nessed the  patience  of  one  in  extreme  suf- 
fering. "  What  am  I,  but  a  wordy  Preacher, 
compared  with  this  great  Doer?'*  And — 
to  compare  small  things  with  great — your 
preacher  has  often  been  constrained  to 
echo  these  words,  as  he  has  stood  by  the 
chair  of  anguish  in  which  this  uncomplain- 
ing martyr  mot  the  will  of  God.  It  is  an 
easy  thing,  comparatively,  to  preach  the 
Gospel — with  all  the  nameless  trials  of  that 
office — it  is  an  easy  thing,  too,  to  live  the 
Gospel,  by  expending  life's  active  energies 
in  the  service — but  to  exemplify  the  spirit 
of  Christ  by  weeks,  months,  and  even  years 
of  sore,  augmenting,  but  unmurmuring 
affliction  !  This  it  is  which  tasks  the  spirit 
and  tries  the  faith  !  This  it  is  which  shames 
all  proof  else  of  the  power  of  the  Gospel, 
and  all   estitiiatioTi  else  of  its  preciousness. 

The  skeptic  may  steel  his  heart  against 
the  most  earnest  appeals  of  the  sacred  desk, 
cheating  himself  with  the  delusion  that 
they  are  nusincere;  he  may,  turn  away 
from  the  mirror  of  God's  Word,   straight- 


way  forgetting  "what  manner  of  person  he 
is,"  in  determined  doubt  of  the  reality  of 
the  picture.  He  may  see,  unconvmced, 
the  evidence  of  a  life  of  holy  Christian 
activity,  for  even  he  can  understand  that 
such  a  life  has  its  present  rewards — that 
Godliness  has  the  promise  of  *'  the  life  that 
now  is.'*  But  how  can  he  resist  the  appeal 
that  testifies  its  sincerity ^by  groans  "  which 
cannot  be  uttered  ?*'  How  can  he  refuse 
to  believe  a  Word  which  writes  the  evi 
dence  of  its  truthfulness,  with  hard,  but 
loving  hand,  upon  a  quivering  human  frame  '/ 
How  can  he  call  that  *'  a  refined  selfishness" 
which  meekly  surrenders  every  pleasing 
thing,  and  calmly  accepts  suffering  as  its 
unrelieved  lot  until  the  end,  supported  by, 
and  even  joyful  in,  that  which  the  end  pro- 
mises to  bestow?  The  hour  of  suffering, 
like  that  which  terminates  it  in  death,  is  an 
*'  honest  hour,"  and  the  declaration  which 
it  seals,  may  be  seldom  questioned. 

And  those  who  are  chosen  to  preach  the 
Qospel  thus,  from  the  altar  of  sacrifice, 
rather  than  the  throne  of  speech,  are  the 
favored  ministers  of  God's  Word,  and  not 
the   forsaken^     '♦  Whom  He    loveth,.  He 


cliastenetli.'*  Even  the  philosopher  Senecaf 
could  say  :  •'  as  the  faithful  teacher  gives 
his  most  hopeful  scholars  the  hardest  les- 
sons, so  dues  Gad  deal  with  His  creatures! 
The  brave  soldier  does  not  murmur  that 
his  CajAaiii  selects  him  for  the  post  of  dan- 
ger and  nidst  arduous  duty ;  he  does  not 
gay  •'  my  commander  has  put  indignity 
upon  me  !"  Oh  no  !  His  happy  exclama- 
tion is,  '*  He  lias  honored  me,  and  I  will 
try  to  dt'servf  his  favor  !" 

As  the  ministry  of  suffering  is  the  most 
effective,  so  are  its  ministers  most  approved 
and  re\var:ted: 

♦♦What  are  these  which  are  arrayed  in 
white  robes,  and  wiience  come  they!" 

♦*  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great' 
tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  ti'  ra  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb.  Therefore  are  they  before  the 
throne  of  Go'l,  and  serve  Him  day  and 
night,  in  His  Temple  ;  and  He  that  sitteth 
on  1^1  e  throne  shall  dwell  among  them- 
They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst 
any  more  ;  iieitlier  shall  the  sun  light  on 
them,  nor  any  hpjit,  for  the  Lamb  which  it 
in  tilt  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed  thom» 


and  shall  lead  tb^m  unto  living  fountains 
of  waters,  and  U-od  shall  wipe  away  all 
tears  from  their  eyes." 

We  may  well  solace  ourselves  with  such 
thoughts — such  truths — as  these,  as  we 
meditate  upon  the  path  of  suffering  which 
Ji?is  ended  here.  Could  we  see  only  that 
weary  way  itgelf»  and  not  as  it  is  mapped 
put  upon  the  plan  of  the  Heavenly  country, 
:  we  should  feel,  indeed,  that  "  clouds  and 
darkness  are  round  about  the  throne," 
and  these,  so  deep  and  dread  that  in  them 
all  thought  of  hope  and  cheer,  in  such, an 
hour,  would  be  obscured.  What  could  He 
be,  who,  for  His  own  pleasure,  could  thus 
smite,  scourge  and  slay,  rending  many 
hearts  in  crushing  one  ?  6ut  when  we  can 
see  that  path,  compassed  with  clouds  indeed, 
and  deepening  to  the  darkness  of  the  tomb  ; 
when  we  see  that  path  brightening  to  the 
''perfect  day"  beyond,  having  no  trace  of 
the  douds  of  earth,  but  the  pearly  drops 
which  t^ey  have  left  upon  the  brow  of  the 
weary  walker  therein,  to  glow  in  the  crawn 
of  the  skies  ;  when  we  can  see  the  darkness 
therein  disappearing  before  its  way,  and 
the  soul  itself  set  as  a  star  on  high,  to  shiBe 


with  the  brightness  of  the  firmament  forerer 
and  ever,  then,  then — we  can  bless  the  gate 
of  sufferino;,  through  which  this  soul  has 
passed  to  God. 

We  have  no  need  to  speak  here  in  praise 
of  the  departed.  Simple  justice  to  her 
character  might  seem  exaggeration  to  those 
wjio  knew  her  not,  whilst  to  those  who 
/^lew  her  well,  it  would  be  superfluous  to 
remind  them  how  noble  and  true  a  woman, 
how  devoted  a  wife,  how  tender,  gentle  and 
loving  a  motlier,  and  how  good  a  mistress, 
has  passed  from  a-mong  them.  If  we  shall 
speak  in  praise  of  her  christian  character, 
it  is  only  because  thus  we  speak  to  the 
praise  of  God.  It  was  the  faith  of  the  Gos- 
pel, in  which  aloni?  she  boasted.  It  was 
Grace  which  moulded  natural  endowments 
of  unusual  richness  into  the  symmetry  and 
proportion  which  all  have  admired.  It  was 
Grace  which  made  her  a  centre  of  social 
love  and  reverence,  and  the  object  of  a 
filial  atfectioi^  that  was  little  less  than  abso- 
lute devotion.  It  was  Grace,  which  led  her 
to  weary  never  in  prayiug,  pleaduig  ;  win- 
ning and  warning  by  counsel  and  example, 
Hutil  every  one  of  the  children  w]iom  God 


had  given  her,  were  given  back  again  to 
Him,  by  their  own  covenant  engagement 
to  be  His.  It  was  Grace  which  enabled 
her  to  '*  glorify  God  in  the  firee"  of  a  living 
and  protracted  martyrdom,  and  which,  we 
are  assured  to-nightj  has  woven  for  her 
brow  the  crown  of  life. 

She  loved  the  cause  of  Christ !  No  sub- 
ject was  ever  so  dear  to  her  as  the  proii- 
perity  of  His  Church.  She  loved  the  people 
of  God,  and  sought  opportunity,  even  when 
suffering  from  ceaseless  bodily  agony,  to 
show  that  love.  Always  thouglitless  of  her- 
lelf,  and  always  thoughtful  of  others,  when 
the  interests  of  2ion  were  concerned,  she 
seemed  to  realize  truly  that  she  **  wat 
not  her  own."  Her  religion  was  as  broad 
as  charity  itself.  As  her  suffering  presence 
was  the  frequent  resort  of  ministers  of 
other  denominations  than  her  own — to 
which  she  was  strongly  attached — ^so  wer« 
their  ministrations  always  welcome  and  pro- 
fitable. But,  unless  their  experience  wai 
different  from  that  of  one  who  was  some- 
times there,  they  went  **  not  to  minister, 
but  to  be  ministered  unto ;"  not  to  teaeht 
but  to  Uarn^  from  one  whom  God  was  teach- 


9 


ing,  in  a  scbool  whose  lessons  were  graven 
upon  the  heart  with  a  pen  of  iron  ;  they 
went  to  learn  how  a  living  soul  could  illus- 
trate the  mysterious  injunction  :  *'  Be  still, 
and  know  that  I  am  God  !" 

We  need  not  say  that  her  end  was  peace. 
Calmly  and  thoughtfully,  though  fettered 
in  the  chair  which  had  been  her  prison  for 
two  long  years,  racked  with  pain  which 
grew  to  intensity  almost  beyond  the  power 
of  others  to  witness,  she  *'  set  her  house  in 
order,*'  gave  ber  parting  counsels  to  chil- 
dren and  grand-children  in  turn,  and  to 
her  weeping  servants,  and  then  waited  for 
the  messenger.  But  He  delayed  His  com- 
ing. Xhe  cup  miglit  not  yet  pass  from  her, 
though  it  seemed  full  to  overflowing.  Days 
and  nights  yet  of  exquisite  pain  were  only 
broken  by  brief  intervals  of  sleep,  but 
through  them  ail,  lier  Hope  was  anchored 
firm  within  the  vail.  Willi  a  voice  broken, 
and  scarcely  audible,  sh«^  repeated  hymns 
aud  promises  of  Scripture,  and  strove  to 
sing  with  those  who  sang  for  her,  longing 
always  to  *♦  depart  and  be  with  Ohriat, 
which  was  far  better." 


10 


At  length,  on  Tuesday  morning,  Angnsi 
23cl,  she  fell  into  a  calm  slumber,  and  ihe 
is  sleeping  still ! 


••*0  blessed  sleep, 


From  which  none  ever  wake  to  weep !" 

But  the  eternal  waking  had  not  yet  come. 
The  spirit  lingered  still  in  that  slumbering 
but  crumbling  earthly  tabernacle  ;  lingered 
thro  igh  another  hushed  and  quiet  day  and 
niglit,  as  if  waiting  until  an  only  brother 
could  arrive,  and  receive  a  faint  sign  of 
recognition,  and  tlien,  without  a  groan  or 
sigh,  whilst  all  her  ciiildren  were  about  her, 
at  "  midnight  there  was  a  cry  made,  '  Be- 
hold the  Bri<le-groom  cometh,'  and  she 
entered  in  with  Him  to  the  Feast  to  go  no 
more  out  forever !" 

♦'  We  watchetl  her  breathinij  thro'  the  night, 

Her  breathing^,  soft  and  low  ; 
As  jn  her  breast  the  wave  of  life. 

Kept  heaving  lo  an  J  fro. 

And  when  the  morn  came,  dim  and  sad, 

And  chiil  with  dewy  showers 
Her  weary  eyes  had  closed — she  had 

Another  morn  than  ours  !" 

We  need  not  speak  of  her  here,  where 
ihe  has  so    long  and  sweetly   spoken,  but 


11 


we  do  need  to   ask  what  message  she  has 
for  us.     **  Being  dead,  she  yet  speaketh," 
and  is  not  the  lesson  one  enforced  upon  us, 
as  lesson  rarely  was  before  ?     It  says  that 
the  religion  of  the  Gospel  it  is  which  can 
beautify  this  life,  and  glorify  itg  end  ;  sup- 
port under  trials  at  which  nature  shudders, 
and  even  give   songs  in  the  night    of  pro- 
fonndest  soriow  ;  hush   the  sigh  of   agony 
in  the  inevitable  hour  when  Death  severs 
the  tenderest  tiei  of  nature,  and  make  the 
tomb    itself  welcome  to  those  who  enter, 
and  even  to  those  who  weep  around  it.     It 
tells    tis,  who    share   the  Faith   which  has 
been  here  so  signally  illustrated,  how  little 
eren  we   have  known  of  its  incomparable 
excellence  for  this   life  ;  and,  oh  !  it  tells 
those  wko  profess  it  not,  how  nakedly  they 
stand  expoied  to  the  blasts  of  life,    and 
how  helplessly  they  must  meet  the  issues  of 
eternity !      Shall  not    these    voiceless  lips 
wake  us  from    the  slumber  of  unconcern, 
and  this  lifeless  form  be  the  means  of  new 
life  to  us ! 

Take  up  the  bier,  ye  upon  whom  devolve! 
that  sacred   duty,  and  bear  her   from  the 


12 


sight  of  the  world,  the  place  appointed  for 
all  the  dying — to  the  grave — the  place  ap- 
pointed for  all  the  living!  But  as  ye  go, 
tread  lightly,  for  you  bear  a  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost !  One  upon  which  the  Father 
Himself  has  put  peculiar  honor,  purifying 
it  by  fire  !  And  ye  who  follow  the  dead, 
return  to  follow  her  counsels  and  examplt 
to  th©  life  which  she  has  reached !  And 
ye  who  remain,  let  not  the  remembrance  of 
what  has  passed  for  so  long  a  tim«  before 
your  Tery  €yes,  beneath  thii  roof,  ever 
fade  from  your  remembrance,  until  we  ghall 
know  the  fulness  of  its  meaning  in  "the 
hoa«e  not  made  with  hands  T' 

•*  Dust !  to  the  •arrow  hdude  beneaUi ! 

Soul !  to  thy  r«st  on  high ! 
They  that  have  seen  thy  look  in  death, 

No  more  need  fear  to  die  I" 


\ 


MiMiijl. 


■  «#i.wi.jlB*iiir!i!i  iwifpiii 


iii  i.jjiiiiii.mMiiiii- 


